Chapter Text
Luis wasn’t paid enough for this shit.
He was halfway through folding the same pair of jeans for the tenth goddamn time that hour when he heard it–the panicked squeak of running shoes against the floor and a loud “HEY!” from the back of the store. He immediately whipped around, only to see a blur of grey, black, and a suspiciously large bundle of denim barreling right in his direction.
Before he could even think of grabbing whoever was bolting with half the clearance rack in their arms, he felt a surprisingly cold hand shove him backwards, sending him stumbling over his stupid wedges and crashing to the floor hip-first along with an entire rack of empty hangers and a mannequin. The prick had pushed him. Love that .
He didn’t even have time to blink before the all too familiar chirp of the theft alarm was blaring through the store. Fuck. That was the third time this month.
A shooting pain raced from his ankle to his hip. It stung enough to make him cry out. He hated the sound of it, how it cracked and curled around the pain. He hated the way his ankle continued to throb under him. He hated that he chose to wear stupid wedges today instead of shoes he actually wanted to wear. And he especially hated how some teenage douchebag just bodychecked him into another dimension like he was just there for decoration.
“Ma’am, are you alright?”
Oh, great. Cherry on top. A reminder that he was a “ma’am” at work. Nice. Cool.
He dragged his eyes from the floor to the person standing over him to meet the most dead blue eyes he’d ever seen, yet they were still so full of concern. He blinked hard and–
Oh.
He was hot. The security guard was stupidly hot. He was just standing there, all stupid looking and gruff and muscular–his muscles were literally fighting for their life under that tight security uniform, what did he do? Bench press vending machines for fun?–and his hair was tousled as if he’d just run his fingers through it. Jesus , he was so tall and so blank-faced it made Luis’s heart jump in his chest.
“Did you hit your head? Would you like me to call medical?” He asked, one of his hands reaching for the radio mic clipped to his chest. His fingers brushed over the coiled cord, and Luis had to look away in order to hide the small tremor in his voice.
“Um–yeah–I mean no. Like, no, I didn’t hit my head, but–my hip and my ankle,” he gestured stiffly down to his still aching lower half, and those stupid, stupid wedges. “T-they’re hurting.” He felt his face heat up at that. Unsure if it was the pain or the embarrassment of lying on the floor in front of Mr. Sexy Security Guard .
Mr. Sexy Security Guard leaned in, squinting at the already blooming bruising on Luis’s ankle. He sucked in a breath and tapped on his radio mic. “This is unit 3 responding to a shoplifting incident. I’ve got an injured employee. Medical needed at…” He looked around the store, seemingly looking for the name of it. “It’s Estrella. The store.” Luis croaked awkwardly. He could’ve sworn he saw the faintest twitch of Mr. Sexy Security Guard’s lips at that. “Medical needed at Estrella, suspect fleeing Southbound.”
It was just then that Luis heard something else. Loud, clanky footsteps approaching him from behind, and then–
“Oh my god, are you okay?!”
It was Paige. The beloved baby employee of the store. Luis groaned in embarrassment as Mr. Sexy Security Guard’s eyes flicked between him and Paige.
“That jerk pushed you?” Paige squawked, immediately running to kneel next to Luis. “That idiot thief pushed a woman!” Ouch. Another seemingly innocent punch to his gut.
Luis looked away, eyes burning holes into the linoleum floor. “He knocked over all my shit. Hijo de puta.” He grumbled, flicking his eyes to the mannequin splayed out on the floor, its all white figure twisted like a pretzel under the pile of hangers and shirts that had also been flung like a football. Paige sighed sympathetically. “I would’ve run after him, but–like, I’ve got asthma.” The little kicked puppy look that she gave him after made him want to laugh.
Suddenly, Mr. Sexy Security Guard cut in. “Actually, it’s probably a good thing you didn’t. You might’ve gotten hurt too.” He ran a large hand through his hair–Jesus, his hands were huge–and kneeled on the floor. “Hey, we need to get you sitting up so the EMTs can get to you better,” he hovered his–frankly huge–hand over Luis’s shoulder, not touching but offering support. “Is that okay?”
Oh, absolutely.
Luis nodded and tried his damndest not to stare at Mr. Sexy Security Guard’s arms. “Yeah. That’s fine. I’m fine–this is so embarrassing.” Oh. Yeah. Great. Cool. Address the humiliation, Luis. Like having Captain America in a security uniform watching you eat linoleum in heels isn’t embarrassing enough. Mr. Sexy Security Guard just chuckled. Oh god, even his laugh was hot, what the hell. “Trust me, I’ve seen way worse. You’re handling this like a champ.”
Oh no .
Like a champ ?
No. Luis could not develop a crush this quickly on a man who probably had a girlfriend named Brittany or something. He looked a bit older, him having a girlfriend was more than plausible. Maybe even a fiancé. Yeah, Mr. Sexy Security Guard had to have a girl already. That’s more than enough reason to not crush on him.
Luis’s heart just about stopped beating when Mr. Sexy Security Guard grabbed one of his arms and guided it to rest over his shoulders for support. Great. His brain was playing harp music and imagining their wedding while he was on the floor with an ankle the size of a basketball. Nice.
“Sit up slow. I got you.”
God. Stop talking.
Mr. Sexy Security Guard’s arm was firm against his back, like a goddamn–living support beam or something. Luis had to look somewhere else, anywhere else other than the arm curling around him and steadying him as he sat up. His eyes caught the small metal nametag on Mr. Sexy Security Guard’ s shirt.
L. Kennedy.
Oh great. Mr. Sexy Security Guard had a sexy last name, too. Luis just hoped his first name wasn’t something boring like Larry. Or worse. Linus. He hated that name.
Suddenly, a loud gasp snapped Luis out of his own head. Oh yeah, Paige was still there. Just kinda…watching him swoon for a stranger. “Oh my gosh, Luisa, that’s so swollen!” She squealed, hand over her mouth. Luis just swallowed down the lump in his throat and pretended that name didn’t just cut him like a knife. He noticed Mr. Kennedy’s eyes flick to him in his peripheral vision. Paige fluttered around in nervous circles. “You need ice! I’m getting ice,” and promptly ran out into the mall towards the escalators.
Mr. Kennedy–hand still firmly placed on Luis’s back, even though it really wasn’t needed anymore–gave a light laugh. “She always that panicky?” He asked with a weird half-smile/sexy smirk combo. Luis gave a totally-not-flustered laugh in return. “Only every day.”
Just then, the sound of squeaky footsteps and the rolling of wheels cut through the usual bustle of the mall, and two mall EMTs burst through the doors of the store with a wheelchair, carrying medical gear like they’d done this a thousand times before. One of them, a short brunette woman, crouched down next to Luis while snapping her gloves like she was about to start digging in his guts or something. Of course, she didn’t do that. She just smiled. “Hi, miss, you had a fall, right?”
Ugh, stop it with the “miss”
“Got shoved. Stupid shoplifter just punted me like I was a football.” Luis hated the way he sounded when the EMT touched his now completely purple ankle with her gloved hands. The EMT grimaced in sympathy. “Yeah, we’ve been seeing a lot of those recently. Guess these weren’t the best shoes to wear today, huh?”
Luis nodded dumbly, just wanting this whole interaction to be over with so he could freak out in peace. The other EMT, a taller man with glasses, made his way over to them and started asking the basic questions– Name? Age? Can you feel this? Pain Scale 1-10? Can you wiggle your toes? –all while pressing and prodding at Luis’s ankle like it was a stress ball. Each “Does this hurt?” sent a new wave of pain up his entire leg, but it wasn’t so bothersome when all he could focus on was Mr. Kennedy standing all stupidly authoritatively behind the EMTs, his arms crossed over his big, stupid broad chest like he was all that. Oh, god, he was all that.
“Okay, let’s get you outta here.” One of the EMTs said as they maneuvered their arms under him and lifted him into the completely humiliating wheelchair. God, they were acting like he was dying. In front of the dumb dreamboat security guard. The EMT looked towards Mr. Kennedy as they grabbed the handles of the chair. “Leon, is it good if she waits in your office for a bit? Just until we can get her some ice?”
Oh, god.
This day just keeps getting better.
Leon? Leon Kennedy?
Hot Sexy Security Guard’s first name is hot too.
Mr. Kennedy– Leon –nodded immediately, his arms still crossed over his big dumb chest. “Yeah, no problem. I can wheel her there.” He scrambled to grab the handles of the chair from the EMT, all protective and in their face about it. The EMTs just nodded and started packing up their equipment while a pang of hurt penetrated the creepy attraction Luis had stuck in his chest.
He didn’t say much as Leon–the Greek tragedy in a polyester uniform he was–pushed the chair out of the store and into the main part of the mall. He just gripped the armrests and tried to ignore the way Leon’s boots sounded against the floor. God, even his stride was attractive. What’s wrong with this guy?
“My office is right across from your store, across the kiosk.” Leon pointed to a rather nondescript grey door just past the kiosk. It looked…depressing, dull, kinda dusty if the light hit it at the right angle. Despite the look of it, Leon pulled a little card from his belt and swiped it in the card reader next to the door. “Don’t worry, the office is clean. I’ve got Gatorade if you like that. You know, electrolytes and stuff.”
Luis wanted to fling himself into the trash can. Why did Leon have to be so nice? Hot people are rarely nice. He either knew he was hot and was just elaborately boasting, or he was a walking phenomenon. Either way, Luis wasn’t saying no to Gatorade. “Yeah–um, thanks.”
Leon propped the door to his office open with his foot and pushed Luis in first. A gentleman, no doubt. “No problem. It’s not every day I have injured people in my office, it’s like a special occasion.” He chuckled again before parking the chair in the corner of the room, right next to the sad little coffee maker. He was right. The office was pretty clean, almost uncomfortably so. The floor smelled like bleach and lemon, and the monitors showing camera footage from the mall were sitting perfectly straight on the desk. The only thing that didn’t scream “clean freak” was the half-eaten protein bar sitting wrapped on the far end of the desk next to a food court coffee cup.
Leon made his way over to the mini fridge–that he just had for some reason?–and opened it, pulling a bottle of blue Gatorade out and setting it on the desk. He must’ve noticed Luis staring at the fridge, because he leaned over and made a gesture at it. “They don’t know I have this. I’m sure you won’t tattle on me if I gift you a Gatorade?” He had this playful little smirk on his face that made Luis want to collapse on the floor just so Leon would pick him up again. He shook his head. “Ay, never. I wouldn’t. Gracias.” He smiled back, taking the bottle and cracking it open in his lap.
A nice silence fell over them. Luis could almost hear his heart still pounding in his chest. It hadn’t let up since the second this dumb security guard came to his rescue like he was some damsel in distress. He hated it.
Okay, maybe he didn’t fully hate it.
Leon pulled an office chair up to Luis and gestured to his ankle. “I’m gonna elevate your ankle, okay?” Luis just nodded, trying not to wince too hard as Leon guided his foot to rest on the chair. At least it wasn’t his dominant foot, he thought.
Leon just kinda…stood there, all professional looking and stiff. “Do you have anyone I can call? Anyone to take you to the ER?” He asked so carefully that it made Luis feel sick. Luis shook his head, remembering who was waiting at home for him.
“I live with my abuelo,” Luis glanced down at his ankle, bruised and swollen and aching. “But he can’t drive. I’d feel awful making him do that anyway.” A pang of guilt ran down his spine at the realization that his abuelo would have to know what happened. That man had always been one to overwork himself, and now he was probably going to try to go above and beyond for Luis.
Leon gave him this weird knowing look, and all of a sudden, Luis felt like he’d just told a sob story. “Not like–I’m some charity case or something–I just said it weird.”
“No, absolutely. I know what you mean.” Leon quickly interjected, his arms still crossed like he was a bodyguard. “If you want, I could drive you to the ER. I know you just met me, though, so it’s your choice.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair again.
Luis’s heart fluttered. One side of him was about to jump at the chance to be in a car with this absolute hunk–and apparently gentleman–of a man, but the other side of him was about to jump out a window because of how hard his heart was pounding against his ribs. This stupid man was–like, way too hot to be around anymore.
Luis gave a polite smile. “Ah, that’s really nice, but I’m sure I can get my coworker to drive me. Thank you anyway.”
Leon nodded in confirmation, although he looked a little disappointed about it. Luis shook it off. It was probably just his hopelessly romantic brain clinging to whatever straws it could.
Just then, the sound of laboured breath and footsteps approached the security office.
“Luisa! Luisa! I have ice!” It was muffled at first, the door taking the brunt of the sound, but once Paige came into the room holding a McDonald’s cup that was half full of ice, Luis could hear her loud and clear.
“McDonald’s was the only place that had a working ice machine, so–oh? Do you have a security guard boyfriend?”
Luis physically had to curl into himself at that.
“No! He’s not–I don’t know him–” He stammered, feeling heat rush to his face again. He was probably so red right now, oh my god. “He’s just–”
“I get that a lot. No worries.” Leon cut in, amused but also a little red.
Another agonizing second went by as Paige flicked her attention between the two of them, clutching the cup of ice in an iron fist grip. “Ohh okay! Well, I have your ice!”
Luis took the cup with a muttered thanks, pressing it to his ankle as if it might also extinguish the fire in his cheeks. “You didn’t have to run like a puppy for it.” He muttered under his breath.
Paige gasped dramatically. “And let my queen suffer? Never!”
Leon let out another low chuckle. Luis wanted to trap that sound in a locket and wear it for the rest of his life.
“Do you think you could maybe…drive me to the ER? Por favor?” Luis asked, not in the slightest bit surprised when Paige responded with an “Oh my god, YES!”
Leon cleared his throat behind them, fiddling his boot against the floor. “Alright, looks like you’ve got a route to the ER, now. You’re free to leave if you want to. I’ll send the theft report in.” He said stiffly, like he was trying to be all professional again. Luis mumbled a quiet thanks as Paige began pushing him out of the room with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Okay, bye, Mr. Security Man! Thanks for saving my friend!” Paige was nearly bouncing out of the room, and it made Luis want to throw himself off a bridge all over again.
He pinched the bridge of his nose as Paige started rolling him towards the North exit of the mall. “Why do you gotta be so cheery all the time? That poor security guard–”
“Because I can tell you kinda like him. And I like embarrassing you.”
Oh yeah, Luis was definitely not paid enough for this.